The night was empty.
The year was 1952.
The war was almost burned out.
A man in a torn up white suit walked a burning earth.
His mind was absent.
The date had meaning not to him, but to someone he once knew.
One who Loved it.
He had not heard from him since the war started.
He was properly gone.
The man sad down on the hill that was the least on fire.
No one was here.
Not even the guys from Spain.
The man looked up into the red sky.
He drew out a pocket watch.
The clock had stopped ticking a while ago.
The opened the clock and drew out some seeds.
The clock was always broken as long as you wish for something
and what ever you want is what bricks the clock.
The man planted the seed beside him.
Within seconds a plant bloomed from the smoldered earth.
The yellow flower bloomed, than the paddles fell down.
There was a pumpkin next to the man.
The man looked down at the watch.
"One the head as always."
The man put Meta back into his pocket.
The pumpkin had meanwhile started to puke out its inners.
The pumpkins eyes and mouth lit up with fire.
A single bat climbed out of its mouth.
The man watched the bat reached the red clouds and vanish.
When he looked down he saw that he was standing in a field of dying flowers, that had grown from the seeds of the first pumpkin.
A second batch of bats reached the sky.
Before the man knew what had happened he was engulfed in bats in the middle of a pumpkin field.
The bats flow into the sky tearing a hole into the clouds of ashes.
A pale full moon shined down onto the man.
than the pumpkin plants started to twist and grow into humanoids with burning eyes.
Than a new army left the scene of the only moonlight this world had seen in months, there number ever growing.
"One the head as always.